


Non-existent

by LittleGrayTurtle



Category: the GazettE
Genre: ? - Freeform, Abuse, Guns, M/M, READ NOTES, SEARCHING FOR AN AUTHOR, Some blood is in the fanfiction, Stalking, cursing, hello to my ao3 i dont know how to tag, honestly i don't know yet okay, sb hit me with a pan
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-04-02
Updated: 2018-04-02
Packaged: 2019-04-17 15:15:05
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,315
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14191770
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LittleGrayTurtle/pseuds/LittleGrayTurtle
Summary: Match your footsteps with the second hand of you watch. Tick. Make sure to master being a hacker. Tock. Remove all data related to your person. Tick. Know how to use guns and knifes. Tock. Remember the reason your family was murdered. Tick. Hate your uncle. Tock. Learn to see the worst in people. Tick. Kill your emotions. Tock.That's how he became non-existent.hellyeah - moth





	Non-existent

**Author's Note:**

> Hey you. You write? Cool. You don't but you have always wanted to? Amazing. Read the notes.

Ruki looked at the watch on his right wrist before going inside the tall building. It was noon so the insides were buzzing with hundreds of people clothed in smart wear, running around the halls. The clicking of the heels of their shoes were getting on his nerves. Plain humans. Working their lives away, doing a steady job, yet complaining every day how bad their lives were. Ruki spat on the marble floor, full of disdain. Some shocked and disgusted people turned their eyes on him, but he couldn’t give two shits about them. Luckily the elevator opened and no one was in it. He entered it and closed the door, swiping a magnetic card on the sensor, knowing it would take him in peace, straight to the highest floor where he had his appointment. 

12:03 PM. The door opened and Ruki walked out from the elevator, a gun in one of his hands, a leather briefcase in the other. A woman sitting behind the counter in the hallway didn’t even care when Ruki pointed a gun straight on her, still typing madly on the keyboard. Her face was indifferent, not showing a slight dose of shock that Ruki was so used to when it came to threatening people with a gun. She was well-trained. Her hand placed something on the top of the counter. 

‘Mr. Takashima is having a meeting right now.’ The woman said so nonchalantly as if she was sure Ruki would completely ignore her words. Finally she spared a glance at Ruki from behind here thick-rimmed glasses. ‘Not that it has ever stopped you.’

Ruki smirked and took the card the secretary placed on the counter. He didn’t bother to answer, instead put the gun inside the back pocket of his pants and rushed towards the metal door at the end of the corridor. One swipe of the card against the sensor and the door was opening with a loud squeaky sound. Inside there was a huge office, furnished in a modern style. Behind an enormous wooden, black deck was sitting him. The famous Takashima Kouyou. 

‘And who the fuck are you?’ A voice that Ruki didn’t really expect came from the white couch on the opposite from the desk. It belonged to a middle-aged man in a suit. ‘How dare you come here like th…’ Before he could finish whatever unimportant bunch of information he wanted, there was blood coming out of his mouth, choking him. In few seconds his body was lying dead on the couch. A gun was thrown on him. 

‘This is my new couch.’ Takashima Kouyou grunted and looked at his nephew, disappointed. A leather briefcase was soon thrown on his desk. He was Ruki sit on the couch, looking at the body with disgust. ‘And my new minister of education.’

‘He was a shithead.’ Ruki admitted. Few days ago he saw that dude on the TV talking about how important it was for the private schools to keep the tradition of uniforms. It was during the political debate about the girl school uniform becoming an invitation for man because all of the cheezy porn movies it was used for. Or something like that. It caught Ruki’s attention how vigorously the dude was defending the use of uniforms so Ruki gathered some of the information about him. Including all of the child pornography. ‘The couch is quite comfy. A shame.’

‘That’s a lot.’ Takashima opened the briefcase and was now reading through the pages and looking through the photos. Those were information about one of the members of the opposite party he was concerned about. The guy seemed to know how to get the crowd ramped up. Not anymore, with that kind of dirt the dude would be ruined in a second. ‘How are you doing lately?’

‘Like you care.’ Ruki reached for the pack of cigarettes peeking from inside the pocket of the dead body’s marine. It was some kind of luxurious brand Ruki has never heard of before. ‘Stop pretending.’

‘You are my nephew. I do care.’ Seeing that Ruki was fishing one of the cigarettes from the pack, Takashima picked up the earphone from old-fashioned phone. ‘Miss Tanaka could you turn off the smoke alarms in my office? Oh, you already did, I understand.’ He heard Ruki laugh out loud at his words. Takashima was slowly getting annoyed. He threw another short sentence over the phone before slamming the headphone. ‘Call for the cleaners because I have a dead body here.’

‘She already did.’ Ruki was still laughing cruelly with an unlit cigarette in his mouth. He was palpating himself, searching for a lighter. ‘Such a quick learner. I wonder what keeps her working for such a piece of shit like you. Do you bend her a lot over your desk? I bet whenever you like, actually. Poor woman.’

‘I pay her good wages. She is consent of everything.’ Uruha sighed deeply. His secretary was a well-trained woman that understood her function in the office. It was everything written on the contract between the both of them. ‘I pay you pretty good wages as well.’

‘You keep me on a fucking lesh.’ Ruki lit a cigarette and took a deep drag. He looked on the paining on one of the walls of the office that he know was a safe. A safe containing the only thing he wanted to earn from Uruha. ‘If you weren’t, I know well how the headlines of tomorrow’s news would look like. The famous and rich CEO of the most profitable brand in Japan found dead on the sidewalk. The only suspect was a young and pretty secretary that committed suicide.’ Ruki took another drag and tapped some of the ash into half-finished cup of coffee on the table. ‘Maybe they would make a movie out of it.’ 

‘I am just doing what I think your father would do for you.’ Takashima said with a hint of remorse in his tone. He understood the anger Ruki had towards him. ‘After the death of your parents I just tried to take care of you and not make you vulnerable.’ 

‘That’s so sweet of you. Thank you.’ Ruki smiled, ironically. ‘For turning me into a cold-blooded killing spy machine for your advantage. It comes in handy.’

‘I didn’t know you would end up like that after the training.’ Takashima admitted, genuinely. ‘It was never my intention.’

‘Cut the crap. You’re full of shit. I could ruin you at any moment.’ Ruki threw the rest of the cigarette into the cup and heard it sizzle. He lit another one and looked on his watch. ‘You have 5 minutes.’ 

‘Thank you for your last work.’ Takashima Kouyou opened one of the drawers and took out a thick pile of files. He threw them on the desk. ‘New person. His name is Suzuki. Ryo.’ 

It was enough information that Ruki needed. His uncle’s words meant Ruki would have to be busy stalking another big figure of politics and finding some dirt on him, until Takashima was fully satisfied. Only when the information would be good enough Ruki would get another order. Sometimes to spark off a huge scandal. And sometimes to cold-bloodedly eliminate the culprit.

Ruki opened the file and took out a piece of paper. In the picture there was a relatively young, handsome, blonde man holding a, what it looked like, 4 or 5 years old child in his hands. All around him were people wearing t-shirts with logo of some kind of organization Ruki has never seen before. The people were holding many kinds of transparents filled with desperate slogans. That Ryo Suzuki looked like a genuine person, full of idealistic crap inside his head, Ruki thought. But he has been there before many times. Every person disappoints if you dig deep enough. Even you, Mr. Suzuki, Ruki smirked. 


End file.
